Granger Danger
by FlitterFlutterFly
Summary: The Grangers move into 6 Privet Drive. For young Harry and Hermione, nothing is the same after that. Ravenclaw!Harry. Ravenclaw!Hermione. Currently No Pairings.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **The Grangers move into 6 Privet Drive. For young Harry and Hermione, nothing is the same after that. Ravenclaw!Harry. Ravenclaw!Hermione.  
**Pairings:** I haven't decided if there will be any… and if so I don't know what they'll be. It depends on a number of factors. It might be Harry/Hermione, it might be Harry/Draco and Hermione/Theo, it might be Harry/Blaise and Hermione/Draco, eh who knows?... what I know it will NEVER be is Hermione/Ron or Harry/Ron.  
**Notes: **Don't worry folks, me posting this story does not mean I'm abandoning House of Snakes. In fact, I'll have the next chapter of that out soon. But I wanted to write this so I did. I don't have a beta, don't want one; same deal as my other stories. I'll update when I feel like it.

* * *

The summer Harry was to turn eight, the Grangers moved into the house next over.

"They're dentists," Petunia told Vernon while Harry set the table.

"Admirable profession," Vernon said. "Got to have our pearly whites, right Duddums?"

Dudley whined. "Where's the food?"

All three Dursleys turned to Harry. He murmured an acknowledgment and escaped into the kitchen to grab the plates piled high with food. His own plate sat on the kitchen counter, just a little bit of mashed potatoes and a single baby carrot.

When he returned, they were discussing the daughter. "She has bushy hair," Petunia said. "And asks so many questions."

Harry knew that his aunt hated questions. He wondered if this girl's parents did too.

H.H

At the elementary school, Dudley went up to the girl that could only be Hermione Granger immediately and attempted to warn her not to be friends with Harry—like he'd done for everyone else.

She completely ignored him, engrossed in a book that seemed too big for an eight year old. Dudley huffed and soon enough the entire school was calling her a know-it-all.

She seemed to ignore that too, but Harry saw how she'd turn her head away sometimes, her eyes a bit shiny and wet.

H.H

Three months after the beginning of the school year and four months since the Grangers had moved to Privet Drive, their teacher assigned a group project. She paired Harry and Hermione together, since no one else wanted to be paired with either of them.

"Don't worry," Hermione said in an aggravated tone. "I'll do it all. You can just sit there."

"But!" Harry said. He blushed and looked down. He wasn't supposed to shout like that. When he looked up, Hermione was staring at him.

"But what?" she asked.

"I can help," Harry said softly. "If that's okay?"

Hermione seemed stunned, but she nodded.

They finished their project fastest in the class. When he got home that night, Dudley complained loudly and Harry got double chores that week, since he was an _overachiever and wanted to make Duddums look bad_.

H.H

Harry and Hermione began hanging out at the neighborhood park, until Dudley's gang chased them one too many times and Hermione suggested they just hang out at her house.

"Is that okay?" Harry asked.

"Sure. I've told my parents all about you."

"And they don't mind?"

Hermione shook her head, smiling. "You're my friend."

Harry felt tears rush into his eyes. "I've never had a friend before."

"Me neither."

Harry nodded and rubbed his eyes. "Okay."

Mrs. Granger took one look at him that first day and ordered him to take a bath. "Hygiene is important!" she said in the same bossy tone Hermione sometimes adopted.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Granger," Harry said, looking at the floor. "My aunt and uncle don't like me wasting water."

"What do you mean?" Mr. Granger asked. "Do you take long showers?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I take a shower once a week, and I've never had a bath."

He looked up in time to see the Grangers exchanging a dark glance. "Well," Mrs. Granger said. "You can take a bath here. Go on. Adam will help you."

Mr. Granger took Harry upstairs and helped him with his first bath. He asked about Harry's clothes as he did.

"They're Dudley's," Harry said.

"Do you have anything of your own?" Mr. Granger asked.

Harry looked down and said nothing. Mr. Granger didn't press.

H.H

Harry started going over to the Grangers frequently until he aunt caught him doing it. She marched over with a sickly sweet smile to explain that Mr. and Mrs. Granger shouldn't let their daughter hang out with such delinquents as Harry.

"Harry is a sweet boy," Mrs. Granger said right off as Harry stared at the ground and Hermione clung to his arm. "He's never any trouble here."

"Mrs. Dursley," Mr. Granger said in what Hermione dubbed his doctor voice. "I don't know what's going on here. I can only assume you weren't happy about having to raise Harry when you already had your own son. Trust me, Jane and I are more than happy taking him off your hands as often as we can."

Petunia stared at them with squinty eyes. "You'll change your minds soon enough," she muttered, but after that she didn't stop Harry from going over unless he wasn't done with his chores.

H.H

It had been almost a full year since the Grangers had moved in. Harry was never happier than he was hanging at the Grangers house. Their house was the exact same set up as the Dursleys, but it felt like home in the way 4 Privet Drive never had.

Mr. and Mrs. Grangers took turns cooking and helping each other in the kitchen and sometimes they let Harry and Hermione bake cookies with them. They never fed Harry less than they did Hermione, but they weren't big on sweets so a lot of things were sugar-free.

There was a second bedroom upstairs just like in the Dursleys home, but instead of it being a storage space for all of Hermione's things, it was made into a study. Mr. Granger had put a cot in it six months in so that Harry had a place to sleep if he wanted to sleepover at their house.

The room was so much bigger than the cupboard under the stairs. When he made the mistake of mentioning this to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, they didn't mention it to the Dursleys, which he knew would have gotten him in _big_ trouble. Instead, they just said he could sleep over any time he wanted and began insisting he stay over when it got dark, even though it was only a quick walk back home.

Harry heard Hermione ask her parents about it one day as he brushed his teeth in the bathroom with the spare toothbrush that had become his.

"I read about it," Hermione said. "Because he has bruises sometimes. And the book said that if you have suspicions about a-abuse," she sniffled then, "you're supposed to report it to the authorities."

"Hermione, honey," Mrs. Granger said. "Books can tell you a lot, but experience tells you even more. Tell me, did that book tell you everything you've learned about Harry's home life? No, you learned a lot by observing. By watching how he behaves. You know he flinches when your father tries to ruffle his hair. You know he's always so surprised when I hug him."

Harry closed his eyes and brushed his teeth harder.

"Harry's a good boy living in a not-so-good family," Mr. Granger said then. "I have no doubt that if we reported it, there'd be a court trial. Maybe Harry would get taken away, but maybe not. The court might rule in the Dursleys favor. And do you know what would happen then?"

"No," Hermione said in a small voice.

"Harry would get in trouble for it," Mrs. Granger said. "The Dursleys might even move and we wouldn't be able to help him the little we have."

"Oh," Hermione said. "But… what can we do?"

"What we've been doing," Mr. Granger said. "It's maybe not enough, but it's all we can. Trust me, darling, if either of us think that Harry's life is in danger, we will act, but until then we want to go with what we know will help, at least a little."

"The foster system isn't a good place to live," Mrs. Granger said. "Neither are orphanages. Sometimes it's best to go with the lesser of two evils, however much you want to find a better solution."

"Just remember to be a good friend to him," Mr. Granger said. "You like to be in control, darling. You're a lot like your mother. But it's too easy for Harry to fall into the background. I have a feeling he's been forced to do that his whole life. So instead of talking over him, encourage his opinion. You never know what he's seen in the world different from you. You can learn a lot from people, sometimes even more than what you can learn from books."

"Okay," Hermione said. "I'll try."

H.H

On Harry's birthday that year, he received his first presents ever: a whole week's worth of clothes that fit him. He cried when he opened them and Hermione hugged him tightly.

Harry only ever wore the clothes at the Grangers and at school. He kept his larger clothes for chores at the Dursleys, because he didn't want to ruin his new set.

On Hermione's birthday that September, he helped Mrs. Granger bake her a cake—one with actual sugar because birthday's were always the exception.

The new school year was great because Hermione and Harry were in the same class, while Dudley had a different teacher. Harry let himself do his best and he received as high praise from the teacher as Hermione did.

Harry was worried Hermione would mind, but she seemed happy to have someone as smart as she was. They often studied and did their homework together and read extra on the side.

H.H

Another six months past and then Harry's cheerful world threatened to end.

It was at dinner at the Grangers. Harry fumbled with the teapot, the nice one that Mrs. Granger's mother had given her for Christmas, and it fell off the side of the table and toward the hardwood floors.

It shattered.

"No!" Harry shouted, and then an amazing thing happened. The pieces of the teapot began to float in the air and glue themselves back together. Then all the spilled tea just vanished, just like that.

Harry carefully put the repaired teapot on the table and looked fearfully around at the Grangers.

Hermione was smiling. "Harry, you too!"

"What?" he asked.

"Hermione sometimes has strange things happen around her," Mr. Granger said. "We were at a loss to explain it at first, but we've accepted it now."

"You mean… I'm not a freak?" Harry whispered. "Hermione is like me?"

"Well, it's strange," Mrs. Granger said. "But now we have even more evidence that it's natural. Two children in the same neighborhood who can do this… magic. It's a gift. You just have to be careful with it, you hear? Not everyone will be understanding about it."

Harry thought to the Dursleys. It had been over a year and he already listened to the Grangers word over his aunt and uncle. If Mrs. Granger said it was magic, then magic must exist. Uncle Vernon was wrong.

H.H

Harry and Hermione talked frequently about all the strange things that had happened around them. Harry told her about how he could speak to snakes, because he'd done it once in the Grangers backyard while Hermione was getting them lemonade, and she was determined to try too.

They found a snake in the park and Harry spoke to it for a bit. He turned to Hermione.

"Harry, you're hissing," she said. "That's not English."

"It's not?" Harry turned to the snake. "_What's the language of snakes called_?" Oh, now that he was looking for it, he heard a difference. There was a sort of background hissing in his mind.

"_Parseltongue_," the snake said. "_That's what Speakers like you call it._" The snake slithered off to go hunt for dinner.

"It said the language is called parseltongue," Harry said, translating the strange word best he could.

"Maybe your parents spoke it," Hermione said. "That's how you learn languages, right? People speak it to you or around you when you're young." Her eyes lit up. "Maybe if you keep speaking it around me, I can learn it! Can you teach me?"

"But you're ten. That's not that young." Harry was nine. Hermione was almost a full year older than Harry, because her birthday just missed the school cut off.

"Young enough," Hermione said. "I read that the critical age is before puberty. I've got a couple more years, I think. You can teach me parseltongue, and I can teach you French!"

Harry nodded, eager to learn the language that Hermione and her mother sometimes spoke in. He'd learned that Mrs. Granger's mother had come to England from France and had spoken the language with Mrs. Granger frequently. Mrs. Granger had in turn taught her daughter.

That night, Hermione explained their plan to her parents. Both Grangers asked Harry for a demonstration of this parseltongue. He concentrated, trying to remember the hissing thing, before he began to speak to them. They were both delighted.

"It's a full language, then?" Mrs. Granger asked. "Snakes don't just think of sleeping and eating?"

"Snakes are really smart," Harry said. "At least, the two I've talked to have been."

"And they were only garter snakes," Mr. Granger said. "What do you want to bet that the larger snakes, boas and the like, are even more intelligent?"

"We'll go to the zoo," Mrs. Granger said. "After Hermione learns enough to be conversational. Then you can both talk to the snakes in the reptile exhibit."

"Thank you!" Hermione said. "Come on, Harry, let's start."

H.H

They spoke parseltongue together every morning before school and French every afternoon after school, before dinner. Hermione's hissing was awful, but then Harry's French was just as bad. They were both determined though.

The school year ended with Harry getting the best marks he'd ever gotten and Hermione just barely topping him. That summer, they went to the zoo several times and talked to the snakes there.

There was a boa constrictor from Brazil who was especially fun to talk to. He didn't like his captivity so much, but he seemed to cheer up every time Harry and Hermione came to visit.

Hermione was getting better at parseltongue. She could only speak the basics, but talking with snakes and not just Harry seemed to help. Likewise, Harry tried to speak French with Mrs. Granger too.

"I'm surrounded!" Mr. Granger would joke and they'd all laugh.

H.H

The next school year, Harry and Hermione were in different classes and, unfortunately, Harry was back with Dudley. It was the last year of primary school before secondary and Harry had been looking forward to doing well again. But there was no way he'd be allowed to out perform Dudley when they had the same teacher.

The Grangers questioned him about his falling grades a couple months in.

Harry had a hard time explaining, but eventually they seemed to get that he would get in trouble if Dudley didn't outperform him.

"But he's so stupid!" Hermione cried. "Harry, you're going to fail!"

"I won't," Harry said. "I'll just barely pass." He shrugged.

Mr. Granger cleared his throat. "Harry, will you be going to the same secondary school as Dudley?"

Harry shook his head. "Dudley will go to Smeltings, but I'll probably go to Stonewall or something."

"Okay then," Mrs. Granger said. "You do what you have to do to stay out of trouble, but when you're in separate schools, you must promise to do your best. Like you did last year."

"I promise," Harry said.

"And until then," Mrs. Granger continued. "You won't stop learning. Even if you don't turn in all your homework assignments, I want you to do them all so you know what to do. I'll compare them with Hermione's to grade them so you know how well you're doing."

Hermione nodded. She'd already shouted about how Harry's teacher should notice what was going on, but Mr. Granger had told her that even authorities figures sometimes are blind to seeing people. That's why Hermione had to make sure to pick her head up from her books sometimes—so she'll never be blind.

Harry had learned at an early age that authority figures rarely helped, but that was before he met Mr. and Mrs. Granger. They were the parents he wish he had, kind except when they needed to be strict and always fair. And they accepted Harry and Hermione even though they sometimes did magic.

The Grangers moving next door was the best thing to ever happen to Harry.

H.H

The year passed by slowly. Harry did his homework twice, once to do it correctly and the other to do it just barely passably. He looked forward to a time when he could just do the first.

Hermione was going to go to Stonewall with him, even though she could have easily gotten into Smeltings or one of the all-girls schools. She said that she studied better with Harry anyway, not with a whole bunch of giggling girls.

The school year ended and they officially graduated from primary school. Mr. and Mrs. Granger took them to the carnival to celebrate and Harry rode all the rides he could find. Then they went home and ate sugar-free ice cream and watched the Les Miserables musical on the television.

H.H

Halfway through the summer, an owl tapped on the Grangers' kitchen window.

"What?" Mr. Granger asked. "Why is that bird tapping on our glass?"

"Look, Adam!" Mrs. Granger said. "There's something tied to its leg."

They ended up letting the owl inside. It flew to the table and held out its leg for Harry. Harry carefully untied the letter attached. "Um, thanks?"

The owl hooted and flew back out the open window.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, leaning over his shoulder.

It was a letter, inviting Harry to attend Hogwarts School of Witches and Wizards. He read the letter aloud for the Grangers.

"I knew it!" Mr. Granger said, as Harry finished. "I knew there were more of you. A school where you can learn how to control your magic."

"But why didn't I get a letter?" Hermione asked. "Do you think I don't have enough magic?"

"I don't want to go if you're not going too," Harry said forcefully. "You're my best friend."

"I'm sure your letter is still coming, darling," Mrs. Granger said. "Let's wait a couple weeks before we do anything drastic."

"I wonder why Harry's letter came here, though," Mr. Granger murmured. "And not number four."

"It says the second bedroom, number six Privet Drive," Harry said.

"You don't sleep in your cupboard very much anymore," Hermione said. "That's probably why."

Harry nodded.

H.H

On a lovely Sunday morning while the Grangers and Harry were all eating breakfast, there was a knock on the front door. Harry's letter had arrived a week ago, but he hadn't written a reply. He wouldn't, not until Hermione got hers too.

Harry adjusted his new glasses as Mrs. Granger went to go answer the door. The Grangers had gotten his prescription checked a few weeks ago and bought him a new pair of glasses. He could see much better now and his glasses weren't broken. In fact, he quite liked them. They were oval-shaped and Hermione said they showed off his green eyes a lot better then his too-small circular ones.

There was some distant talking and then Mrs. Granger came back with an older woman in tow. She wore a long dress that reached the floor and her white hair was up in a high bun.

"This is Professor Minerva McGonagall, from Hogwarts," Mrs. Granger announced happily.

"Is that… Harry Potter?" McGonagall asked, looking stunned.

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said shyly. "I'm sorry I haven't replied to my letter yet. I was waiting for Hermione to get hers."

"We don't send letters to muggleborns," McGonagall said, still looking a bit flabbergasted. "The professors come in person to introduce the wizarding world to them and their parents."

"Well then why did Harry get a letter?" Mr. Granger asked. "The Dursleys certainly aren't wizards."

"Well…." McGonagall blinked. "Wait a minute, Mr. Potter did you not know about Hogwarts before you go your letter?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I just knew I could do magic sometimes. And Hermione too."

McGonagall muttered something nasty under her breath.

"Maybe you could sit down?" Mrs. Granger offered. "Have some tea and explain what's going on."

They pulled up another chair and McGonagall sat. "What do you know about your parents, Mr. Potter?" she asked as Hermione poured her a cup of tea.

"They died in a car crash because my dad was driving drunk," Harry said plainly.

The teacup shattered and Hermione screamed.

"So sorry," McGonagall said immediately. She pulled out a stick and waved it. The teacup fixed itself and the spilled tea disappeared.

"I did that once," Harry said.

"Yes, children under the age of eleven often experience bursts of accidental magic," McGonagall told him. Her lips were white and her words carefully controlled.

"They both have, several times," Mrs. Granger said.

"If I can ask," McGonagall began. "Why are you here, Mr. Potter? And not with your aunt and uncle."

Harry looked down. It was Mr. Granger who explained.

"Harry's family doesn't like his… magic. He stays with us most nights. He and Hermione are good friends. They found solace in not being alone."

"So the Dursleys never explained your magic to you?" McGonagall asked.

"Uncle Vernon says magic doesn't exist and Aunt Petunia slaps me if I ask about it," Harry said. He'd grown more confident in talking about what it was like at the Dursleys, because the Grangers never hated him for it or talked to his aunt and uncle about it. They just helped him feel better.

The table rattled and then McGonagall took a deep breath. She stared off in the distance. "I told him. I said they were the worst sort. Not the type who should be raising a magical child. But he said they were family. They'd take care of you." She buried her head in her hands. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry for never checking up on you."

"Who's him?" Harry asked.

"Albus," McGonagall murmured. "Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts. After your parents died, we had nowhere to put you. He dropped you off at the Dursleys. Your aunt knew all about magic, because her sister, your mother, had gotten a letter to Hogwarts all those years ago. I thought, even if they aren't the nicest family at least they'll teach Harry about the world. And it was safer for you to be here, not in the magic world. At least, not at that point."

"I think you need to elaborate, Professor," Mrs. Granger said.

McGonagall proceeded to explain to them how exactly Harry's parents had died, about the dark lord who was thankfully dead, and about how his followers hated Harry for it. "But things have calmed down. Harry shouldn't be in danger at Hogwarts. It's a very safe place."

Harry felt a bit faint, but a part of him was excited. His parents were a witch and wizard! They weren't drunks. They hadn't died in a car crash. They'd died trying to protect him.

"And this Hogwarts, it's a magical school?" Mrs. Granger asked. "Can we visit it?"

"I'm afraid not. It's spelled so muggles like yourselves can't see it. All you'll see if you tried to visit would be ruins."

The Grangers frowned but nodded.

"But you can see Diagon Alley," McGonagall said. "It's a magical shopping district. That's why I'm here. My job is to explain the magical world to you, all of you apparently," she looked at Harry, "and take you shopping for your daughter's, and Harry's I suppose, school supplies."

"Can we?" Hermione pleaded. "Harry and I can actually learn real magic!"

Mrs. Granger nodded. "We knew it might come to this as soon as Harry got his letter. I'm just glad you'll both be going to the same school together. Especially if Harry's as famous as the professor is saying. He'll need a true friend who won't want him just for something his parents did."

Harry smiled. "Hermione will always be my best friend!"

H.H

They went to Diagon Alley. McGonagall explained more about Hogwarts and the four houses as they stepped through the Leaky Cauldron and into the Alley itself.

"So you're head of Gryffindor, Professor?" Mr. Granger double-checked.

"I am."

"But you'll still keep an eye on our two if they're not sorted into Gryffindor, won't you?" Mrs. Granger asked. "Answer their questions if they ask."

"I'm a teacher too. If Mr. Potter or Ms. Granger ever have questions for me, I'll be happy to answer them, but it will the be job of their head of house, whomever that is, to keep the closest watch on them."

They headed down the Alley. Harry and Hermione both stared open-mouthed at everything and Mr. and Mrs. Granger weren't faring much better. McGonagall pointed out what she could, explaining the different types of magic. "Charms are useful for household spells, but they can also find different purposes," she explained. "I teach Transfiguration. The first chapter of your textbook explains the theory of it. It would be good to read ahead, as most children who come in from wizarding families already understand it."

They headed to Gringotts, run, apparently, by golbins. They went first to the muggle money exchange booth.

"It might be useful to set up a vault for Hermione, so you can have galleons, sickles, and knuts readily available instead of waiting in this line every summer," McGonagall said.

"Can we write a check?" Mr. Granger asked.

"What's a check?" McGonagall asked, but then it was there turn to talk to the goblin. The creature said they could indeed write a check, as Gringotts had connections to some muggle banks.

The Grangers deposited fifty thousand pounds in a new vault for their daughter. It translated to ten thousand galleons. The golbin gave Mr. Granger two keys, one of which he handed to Hermione.

"You be careful not to loose that, okay darling?" Mr. Granger said. "This will last you through school until you get a job of your own. Anything magical you need, including all your school supplies and any extra books you want, you can use this for but if you run out that's it."

"I understand," Hermione said. "I'm almost twelve, I can do it." She clutched the key tightly.

"Professor," Harry said. "My aunt and uncle won't want to pay for me."

"Don't worry, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said. "Your parents left you money."

"They did?"

McGonagall nodded. They headed to a regular teller and requested Harry's key. The goblin had him write on something with a quill that took a bit of his blood to confirm he was indeed Harry Potter.

"Here's your trust vault key, Mr. Potter," the goblin said. "The main Potter family vault is locked to you until you come of age."

"How much is in the trust vault?" Harry asked, hoping it would be enough to get him through Hogwarts.

"Seventy thousand galleons," the goblin stated.

Harry gaped, and then turned to Hermione, who was also gaping.

"Were Harry's parents quite wealthy, then?" Mr. Granger asked as they got into a cart headed down to both Hermione and Harry's vaults.

"Harry's father was the Lord of the House of Potter," McGonagall said. "He inherited a lot of wealth when his parents died. And Lily was always brilliant. She invented and sold several potions that made her a bit of money. I believe the money in Harry's trust vault is all Lily had, while James' large fortune will stay locked until Harry is seventeen."

"Seventeen? The goblin said when he comes of age." Mrs. Granger said.

"Yes, that's seventeen in the wizarding world." She frowned. "What is it in the muggle world?"

"Eighteen," Mr. Granger said.

"I'll still be in my sixth year of Hogwarts when I'm of age," Hermione said.

"Well I hope you don't plan on dropping out of school early, Ms. Granger," McGonagall said.

"No!" Hermione looked so scandalized that Harry laughed.

And then they couldn't talk because the cart dipped down and began moving like a rollercoaster. Harry loved it, though the Grangers looked a bit sick.

Hermione took a pouch—the one she'd bought from the goblin teller for one galleon taken straight from her new vault—and counted out one hundred galleons. Harry did the same in his vault.

They went back up to the surface and headed first to get their wands. "A wand is a witch or wizard's most important possession," McGonagall explained. "You must take care of your wand."

"Can we start practicing magic immediately?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"No. Until you're of age, you are only allowed to practice magic at Hogwarts."

Hermione pouted.

"We can still read through the textbooks, Hermione," Harry said.

Hermione nodded. "But theoretical knowledge isn't enough."

Harry saw the Grangers smiling. He knew remember that conversation he'd overhead between Hermione and her parents about books not having all the answers, that sometimes you had to look up and see the world.

"Well," McGonagall said with a secret sort of smile. "There's nothing that says you can't get started on _some_ of your schoolwork. Potions don't often require a wand. As long as Mr. or Mrs. Granger supervises you, I don't see why you can't try your hands at some of the earlier ones in your book."

"Cool!" Harry and Hermione said simultaneously. They grinned at each other.

They walked into Ollivander's, Maker of Fine Wands. McGonagall rang the bell and an older gentlemen stepped out from the back shelves.

"Ah, Minerva McGonagall," the man said. "Eleven inches, oak, hippogriff feather."

"That's correct, Mr. Ollivander," McGonagall said. "I'm here with two new firsties. If you could sort them out?"

Ollivander flicked his gaze to Hermione, and then to Harry. "Ah, Mr. Potter," he said. "I've been expecting you."

Harry shivered. He'd kept his bangs low to cover his scar after he'd heard what it signified in the wizarding world. So far, no one had stopped him, but somehow Ollivander had recognized him.

"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione said then, breaking the tension.

Ollivander blinked. "A pleasure, Ms. Granger. Let's do you first, then."

He flicked his wand and a measure tape began to bustle around Hermione. She stood still and let it. "Wand hand?" Ollivander asked.

"I'm right handed," Hermione said, a bit uncertainly.

Ollivander nodded. He began to pull slender boxes from the shelves. He opened one and handed a wand to Hermione. "Give it a wave."

Hermione did. Nothing happened. Ollivander took it back and they tried again.

It took a couple minutes, but eventually Hermione's wand shot blue and red sparks from the tip. "Ten and three quarters inches, vine wood with dragon heartstring," Ollivander proclaimed.

Hermione grinned, showing off her new wand to Harry and her parents. They clapped and then Harry stepped forward.

Ollivander repeated the process with him. Some of his wand reactions were a bit volatile. He broke a vase with one. But Ollivander seemed to like the challenge.

The wand boxes piled higher and higher. Harry began to get nervous. What if none of the wands worked for him?

"I wonder," Ollivander murmured. He headed to a back shelf and took a box from it.

"Sir?" Harry asked.

Ollivander took the wand from the box and handed it over to Harry. At once, Harry felt a warmth course through him. He flicked the wand and bronze, silver, and gold sparks shot from it.

"Hooray!" Hermione cheered in the background, but Ollivander didn't smile.

"Eleven inches, holly with phoenix feather," Ollivander said.

"What's wrong, sir?" Harry asked.

Ollivander glanced at where McGonagall was standing and then back at Harry. "The phoenix who gave that feather gave only one other feather. The man who held your brother wand, Mr. Potter, is the same man who gave you your scar."

Harry paled, but then McGonagall cleared her throat. "Brother wands are a dime in the dozen. It's true, Fawkes only gave two feathers, but the hippogriff that gave his feather for my wand gave about twenty more. I'm always finding people with brother and sister wands to mine."

"Fawkes?" Harry asked, turning to McGonagall.

"Professor Dumbledore's phoenix."

Harry nodded. He and Hermione both paid seven galleons for their wands and they left the shop.

Next were trunks. There were a number of trunks that looked bigger on the inside then they were on the outside.

"These are equipped with built-in featherweight charms," the clerk explained.

"They'll be useful," McGonagall said. "I always like to have a trunk with a separate compartment for my clothes and for my books."

Harry and Hermione both bought one. The top opened up to a sort of walk-in closet where clothes could be hung or folded on wooden shelves. The compartment under the top could open to a long bookshelf where books could be placed with their spines facing out for easy finding. The bottom compartment was smaller, but with enough room to fit other knickknacks and school supplies.

They also both bought new backpacks, though they were called sacks in the wizarding world. Mr. Granger told them both to get bags with two straps, not just one, so as to not strain their backs under the weight of the books. The clerk said that wouldn't ever be a problem if they got featherweight charmed bags too. They both did, grabbing tan bags which also held more on the inside then they looked like they could.

The trunks and bags were indeed very light and easy to carry and roll behind them as they continued to shopping. They got their potion supplies, including pewter cauldrons and empty vials. After putting the purchases in their new trunks, they headed to get parchment and quills.

"Witches and wizards write with quills and ink," McGonagall explained. "Homework is assigned in parchment length. See here, standard parchment comes in foot-long sheets. There's also yard-long rolls."

"How long are most assignments, professor?" Hermione asked.

"As a first year, you won't be assigned much over a foot," McGonagall said. "It's important to write the length assigned. You seem like the sort of girl to want to do more than assigned, but the point of doing just a foot is to prove that you can summarize the material in concise words. There will be some assignments where there will be no assigned length and then you can write as long or as little as you want."

Harry and Hermione nodded.

"You'll have to practice with these quills," Mr. Granger said, twirling one in his hand. "So you don't drip ink all over your homework."

"We can practice by summarizing the chapters of our textbooks," Harry suggested.

"That's a marvelous idea, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said. "You'll be more than ready for Hogwarts if you do that."

They both bought a hundred sheets of the foot-long parchment and several rolls of the yard-long. Then they bought a dozen inkbottles and self-sharpening quills. Hermione also found a sort of magical eraser that could get rid of inkblots and other mistakes. They bought one each.

Next were robes. Harry and Hermione stood for Madame Malkin and her assistant as they measure them out and made them the usual set of school clothes.

"What about casual wizarding clothes?" Mrs. Granger asked. "Must they wear their school robes all the time?"

"It's only required during class," McGonagall said. "Most muggleborn children wear their muggle clothes other times."

"Won't we stand out?" Harry asked. He'd already planned to try to blend in as much as he could. He didn't want to be famous, the talk of the school. He just wanted to be a normal student.

"Well… I suppose." McGonagall blinked. "Casual magic clothes aren't that much different from muggle clothes. Skirts, trousers, and even t-shirts." She paused. "Though I haven't ever seen muggle t-shirts with moving images."

"Magic t-shirts have moving pictures!" Hermione exclaimed. "Can we buy some, Mum, Dad?"

The Grangers nodded. They grabbed their school robes and headed to a different shop that specialized in casual clothes. Harry bought a few sets of black and khaki trousers. He figured he could bring his plain tees, since they looked basically the same in both worlds though they seemed to be made from slightly different materials. Hermione also bought trousers, though she grabbed one plain black skirt. Then they both looked through the magical t-shirts.

Harry bought one with the Hogwarts crest on it, the four mascots moving around their sections of the shield. He also grabbed one with a flying animal McGonagall said was a hippogriff and another with a dragon. Hermione grabbed a shirt with a quill writing over a parchment and one with a book that was flipping between pages. She also grabbed a blue one with a school of fish that swam around the entire shirt. They both bought a green shirt with a snake that slithered all over.

"You like snakes?" McGonagall asked after they'd purchased their clothes and left the shop.

"We can speak parseltongue," Harry said happily. "I taught Hermione."

McGonagall paled and quickly drew the whole group aside to an empty gap between two shops. "Mr. Potter, you know parseltongue?"

"I thought my parents must have spoken it to me," Harry murmured.

McGonagall shook her head. "Parseltongue is thought to be a very dark language."

"Why?" Hermione asked. "It's just a language. Snakes are fun to talk to."

"You're saying you learned it, Ms. Granger?"

Hermione nodded.

"They worked very hard at it," Mr. Granger said. "They practiced parseltongue for hours. And then Hermione would teach Harry French to be fair."

McGonagall frowned. "French is a useful language. Many pureblood families teach their children French at a young age."

"So not many people know parseltongue?" Harry asked.

McGonagall shook her head. "I don't know how you learned it, Mr. Potter. Neither of your parents knew it. I know most are born with the ability. I didn't even know it could be taught. See there's a whole brand of magic called parselmagic that tends to be very dark."

"Oh," Harry said. "Well, Hermione and I just talk. We won't cast this parselmagic. Is that okay?"

"If you were born with it, then it's your heritage," McGonagall said. "And if it can be learned, that changes everything. I don't want to forbid you two from learning more about parselmagic, but you must be very careful about what you find. Parseltongue has been corrupted by dark lords for centuries, but I heard that it didn't used to be so badly looked upon."

"We'll just keep it quiet," Hermione said. "It'll be Harry and mine's secret language."

McGonagall nodded. She still looked pale, but they continued on. The next stop was Flourish & Blotts. They bought their schoolbooks and then went rampant grabbing anything that looked interesting.

McGonagall told them what books they'd grabbed would be too advanced for them. "You'll have time to learn all about that later. Concentrate on the basics." They put those books back, but they ended up with a good dozen books each, not counting their school texts.

They placed the books in their trunks.

"That's all you should need," McGonagall said. "Though many students take pets to school. Magical pets are quite smart. They tend to wander around the castle and grounds and catch their own food."

"It says you can only have an owl, a cat, or a toad," Hermione said.

McGonagall smiled. "Those are the rules, but to be honest, many students bring other animals. One of my prefects owned a rat for years, though I heard he gave the pet to his little brother who's also starting school this year."

"We should get an owl," Harry said. "So we can send letters to your parents, Hermione."

Hermione nodded. "Is that okay, Mum, Dad?"

"I'm sure we can learn to send letters back with your owl," Mrs. Granger said. "Since it seems Hogwarts doesn't have a regular postal service."

"We only need one," Harry said. "What if I buy the owl, and you buy a cat or something?" He'd never had a pet before and now he was excited at the possibility of sort of owning two of them.

They headed to Eeylops Owl Emporium first. Harry spotted a beautiful snowy white owl in the corner. Hermione loved her too and the Granger parents thought she was very pretty. The clerk said she was one of their smarter breeds and so that settled it. He bought her.

Mr. Granger held her cage so Harry could keep rolling his trunk along behind him. They headed to the Magical Menagerie.

Almost immediately, a large orange _thing_ pounded from the rafters to the ground in front of them.

"Crookshanks!" a clerk yelled. "Don't scare the customers."

The cat, for now it looked like a very large ugly cat, hissed.

"Oh!" Hermione cried. "Look how cute you are!" She reached forward and surprisingly Crookshanks began to purr. Harry walked forward too and held out a hand. Crookshanks stared at him for a moment and then purred harder as Harry brushed a hand on his head.

The clerk stared at them both. "Crookshanks doesn't really like anyone."

"He's a big cat," Mrs. Granger said uncertainly.

"He looks like he's part kneazle," McGonagall said. "They're a cat species," she explained. "But quite a bit more intelligent than even the average magical cat."

"Can we keep him?" Hermione asked.

The Grangers nodded and the clerk seemed happy to be rid of the part cat, part kneazle. They bought Crookshanks a cat carried and left the store.

McGonagall showed them the Knight Bus, a mode of magical transportation they could use even as muggles and underage magicals. The ride was a bit terrifying, but soon enough they were back in front of 6 Privet Drive.

"I'll see you both at school," McGonagall said. She handed them both a train ticket. "September first. The train leaves from King's Cross Station at eleven on the dot, so don't be late."

"Platform nine and three quarters?" Hermione asked.

"It looks like a brick wall between platforms nine and ten," McGonagall explained. "You can just walk through it. Even you, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. You can say goodbye to the children on the platform."

"Fantastic," Mr. Granger said. "Thank you for all your help, Professor."

"It was my pleasure," McGonagall said with a smile. She looked around, as if to check no one was watching, and then disappeared in thin air.

"Cool," Harry said.

"I want to learn how to do that," Hermione agreed.

"Well, you two had better start reading then," Mrs. Granger said.

They grinned and raced into the house. They had a little more than a month until school started, but they had a lot to learn until then.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes:** Happy Birthday to Harry Potter and JK! (7/31/2013)

* * *

Harry and Hermione read through and summarized the chapters of the first halves of all of their school textbooks. Hermione had wanted to read them all the way, but Harry had said that if they did they wouldn't have time to read much of the other books they bought and practice potions.

Of course, because they were practicing potions, they both read through the entire Potions textbook and the other supplementary Potions texts they'd bought. Mr. and Mrs. Granger told them they weren't allowed to do any brewing unsupervised, but as soon as the Grangers got home for their dentistry practice, Harry and Hermione set up their cauldrons on the stove and got started.

It took them both several tried to get their first potion, a cure for boils, the exact right shade. Eventually Hermione realized that maybe they weren't grinding the newt eyes enough. Once they got that figured out, they moved on to the mild forgetfulness potion and then the dancing hair potion.

Crookshanks seemed to like lying around in the backyard. The owl, who Harry had named Hedwig after a name in the History text, often swooped in and out of the kitchen window to go hunt mice in the neighborhood park. Luckily Hedwig and Crookshanks didn't seem to mind each other and the Granger parents didn't seem to mind either animal since they were generally clean and definitely too intelligent to have accidents in the house.

The last month and a half of summer, including Harry's birthday, passed by. Harry spent most of the time at the Grangers, especially after he'd told Aunt Petunia that he wouldn't be going to Stonewall—his Hogwarts letter had arrived and he'd already gotten all his school supplies. She'd screeched at him until he'd run next door and he hadn't return to number 4 for a whole week after that.

Then it was the morning of September first and Harry and Hermione were all packed and ready. They both wore trousers instead of jeans and their plain t-shirts—so they could blend in with the muggle world but wouldn't stand out too much on the train. Then they all piled into the Grangers car and headed off to Kings Cross Station.

Like McGonagall had said, they were able to just walk through the brick wall between platforms nine and ten. The Hogwarts express was a beautiful red steam engine. It was ten thirty and loads of students and parents were bustling around saying their last goodbyes.

Harry and Hermione turned to the Grangers.

Mrs. Granger hugged her daughter first, and then Harry. Mr. Granger kissed his daughter's forehead and ruffled Harry's hair. Harry had stopped flinching a while ago, and now he just smiled brightly.

"We'll miss you both," Mrs. Granger said. "You'd best write us. Tell us all about the magic you're learning."

"And don't forget to brush your teeth," Mr. Granger said. "We'll check on both of you over the winter hols."

"Yes, Mum, Dad," Hermione said.

"Yes, Mrs. Granger, Mr. Granger," Harry said at the same time.

"You're good kids," Mr. Granger said.

"Off with you now, or you won't get good seats," Mrs. Granger added.

Harry pretended not to see the tears in Mrs. Granger's eyes. He tugged Hermione along. They helped each other lift their trunks onto the train, since they were both carrying the carriers for their pets.

Once on the train, they looked for an empty compartment. They ended up finding one at the very end of the train.

"I don't suppose we can practice spells now?" Hermione asked. "Since we're on the train?"

"It is kind of Hogwarts property, isn't it?" Harry added.

"I don't want to get in trouble though," Hermione said, stroking Crookshanks, who she'd let out of his carrier and who now sat on the seat next to Hermione.

"Well if anyone comes, we'll just say we're first years and didn't know better," Harry said.

Hermione frowned, but nodded. Obviously her desire to practice spells outweighed her fear of reprimand.

They both got out their wands and began practicing spells from their Charms and Transfigurations textbooks. Neither of them were very good yet, but Harry reminded Hermione about how awful they both were at the languages they learned from each other at first. They got better at that, they'd get better at this.

"We have seven years to learn," Hermione agreed.

At one point just before eleven, a red-haired boy peeked his head through the window, but he left after seeing the compartment had people in it. Harry and Hermione went back to practicing spells as the train began to move, and then they both got distracted by the scenery.

"We're headed north," Hermione said.

"Toward Scotland?" Harry asked.

"Didn't _Hogwarts, A History_ say the castle was somewhere in Scotland?"

Harry nodded. "You're right."

They weren't bothered by anyone on the train ride. When the trolley lady came around, Harry bought one chocolate frog and a sandwich. Hermione bought a pumpkin patty, because the trolley lady said they had the least sugar, and a sandwich as well.

"Hey, they've got cards," Harry said as he opened the chocolate frog. "Look, I got our headmaster."

"I bet you can collect them," Hermione said. "Like cereal prizes or something."

Harry nodded. He stared down at the picture of Dumbledore. Dumbledore waved at him.

"Hermione! The pictures move like our shirts do!"

Hermione looked and grinned. "I thought it might be only the portraits, like _Hogwarts, A History_ said, but I guess all wizarding pictures move."

"At least the cards do."

Harry put his Dumbledore card away and then he and Hermione put their school robes on over their clothes.

H.H

A giant of a man, possibly a giant period, called for the first years. Harry and Hermione walked toward him. They had left their trunks and pets on the train, where apparently they'd be taken to their rooms.

The large man introduced himself as Hagrid, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts. Harry gave him a polite smile when Hagrid looked at him. Mrs. Granger had helped him straighten his bangs that morning so they'd cover his scar easier. Hagrid just blinked and looked away from him.

Harry and Hermione got into a boat. Two others joined them, a pudgy boy clutching a toad and a red-haired girl.

"Hello," Harry said.

"Hi," the girl said. "I'm Susan Bones."

"Hi, Susan," Harry said. "I'm Harry Potter and this is my friend, Hermione Granger."

Hermione smiled a bit hesitantly.

"You're Harry Potter?" Susan gaped. "Oh, I thought you'd be taller."

Harry scratched his head. "Sorry?"

"What's your name?" Hermione asked the other boy.

"Neville Longbottom," the boy said softly.

"It's nice to meet you, Neville," Harry greeted.

"Do you reckon you'll be a Gryffindor, like your parents?" Susan asked. "I think I'll be a Hufflepuff. My aunt was and she's head of the aurors now."

"Cool!" Harry said. "Hufflepuffs are determined and loyal, right?" He tried to remember what he'd read in _Hogwarts, A History_. "And Gryffindors are brave."

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione said. "About you being a Gryffindor, I mean. Your parents were obviously very brave, but, I don't know."

Harry nodded. "I don't suppose a I care. I mean, no matter what house I'm put in, we're still at Hogwarts learning magic, right?"

Susan and Neville looked at him like he was a bit insane. Harry glanced at Hermione, but she just shrugged, obviously agreeing with him.

The boats docked and they all got off. Hagrid left them in a hallway, telling them a professor would be with them shortly.

Harry stayed close to Hermione. Neither of them shrieked when the ghosts appeared out of the walls, but they both jumped and then stared in wide-eyed amazement.

"Cool," Hermione whispered.

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

McGonagall appeared them. She introduced herself, smiling as Harry and Hermione both waved at her. "We will now begin the sorting," she announced. "Get in a line now and follow me."

Harry slipped behind Hermione and they trudged with the rest of the students into the Great Hall. "Look, the ceiling!" Harry whispered to Hermione.

"Charmed to look like the sky outside," Hermione said.

"Magic is awesome," Harry said, agreeing with her tone.

McGonagall called the first name, Hannah Abbot, to be sorted. After her, Susan Bones was put into Hufflepuff and he clapped for her. Harry watched and waited as one by one his yearmates got put into their houses. Hermione got called up then. McGonagall placed the hat on her head.

Harry held his breath, but soon he had to let it out. Hermione took forever. He remembered what he'd read in _Hogwarts,_ _A History_ about how students who take over five minutes were called hatstalls.

The hat opened its brim. "RAVENCLAW!" it yelled.

The Ravenclaw table clapped as Hermione got off the stool and headed over to them. She smiled at Harry as she sat and he gave her a thumbs up.

More students were called up, including Neville Longbottom, who became a Gryffindor, and Draco Malfoy, who was immediately a Slytherin. Several more students came and went, and then McGonagall called Harry's name.

The Great Hall began whispering as he walked up to the stool. He wasn't anonymous anymore. Everyone was watching him. Harry resisted the urge to curl in on himself, but he kept his eyes down until he reached the stool and the hat was placed on his head.

"_Ah, Mr. Potter_," the hat said inside his mind.

"_Um, hi?_" Harry thought very strongly. The hat seemed to chuckle at him. Harry blushed.

"_Let's see… I see a great deal of cunning in you. And intelligence as well. Bravery, too. And a great deal of loyalty to your friends._"

"_So you're basically saying I could go to any house?_"

"_No, no, most children have qualities of all the houses. It is my job to find which is strongest. For you… your cunning is great indeed._"

"_I want to go to Ravenclaw,_" Harry told the hat. He had nothing against Slytherin, but Hermione was in Ravenclaw.

"_The desire to stay with your friend is a very Hufflepuff quality._"

"_Ravenclaw._"

"_Stubbornness is a Gryffindor quality._"

"_I study best with Hermione._"

"_Very Slytherin of you to try to manipulate me_."

"_Come on. Please!_"

The hat seemed to sigh. "_No respect nowadays. Very well. You'll do well there, but mark my words, Slytherin would have been a road to greatness for you._"

"_I'll still make Slytherin friends._"

"_Allies, Mr. Potter. You'll want to make Slytherin allies._"

Before Harry could ask what the hat meant by that, it opened its brim and shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

Harry grinned and hopped off the stool. He handed the hat to McGonagall, who smiled at him. The Ravenclaw was cheering loudly. Harry noticed they were being louder for him than they had been for the others sorted into Ravenclaw. He didn't like that. He'd just have to make sure to blend in the background until this fame thing died down.

At least he was with Hermione. He sat next to her at the table. She hugged him tightly. "Look, Harry! Blue and bronze."

Harry looked down at his tie. It had indeed changed color, just like Madam Malkin had said it would. And the crest on his robe had become the Ravenclaw eagle.

At the stool, Ron Weasley was sorted into Gryffindor, and then Blaise Zabini into Slytherin. McGonagall banished the stool and rolled up the hat. Up at the high table, a white-haired figure stood from the largest chair.

"Welcome all of you to Hogwarts. I am Dumbledore, your Headmaster." Dumbledore smiled kindly.

Harry frowned. He remembered what McGonagall had said about Dumbledore placing him at the Dursleys despite her concerns. And the man had never checked up on him. Judging by the look on Hermione's face, she too was remembering that.

Dumbledore said what sounded like four nonsense words and sat down. Harry grinned as food appeared on the table. He grabbed the nearest serving dish—butter rolls—and took a couple for himself, before passing the dish to Hermione.

"Welcome to Ravenclaw, firsties," an older male said. He had a prefect badge on his chest. "My name is Robert Hilliard. The other prefects will introduce themselves to you later. We tend to spread out across the table during meals and I got first year duty tonight." He grinned.

"How many prefects are there?" a Chinese girl asked from across from Hermione.

"Six," Robert told her. "A male and a female from fifth, sixth, and seventh year. Our current Head Girl is also a Ravenclaw, but don't bother her unless it's really important. She has a lot of duties."

They all nodded, looking to the dark-skinned girl at the other end of the table that Robert had gestured to.

"Now, we at Ravenclaw pride ourselves on not discriminating. We care first and foremost about your intelligence. So long as you keep your grades up and continue earning house points, we do not care what else you do. However, in order to be the best you can be, we need to make sure you have all the means to learn what you need to know. So, I want you all to introduce yourselves and state your blood status, an overview of the education you received before Hogwarts including your knowledge of wizarding etiquette, and what subjects you are most confident in and most anxious about."

The boy at the end of the table started. "I'm Terry Boot, pureblood. I had home tutors and I'm well versed in most theory, including for Arithmacy and Ancient Runes. My family is one generation from an Ancient House so I'm very well-versed in etiquette. I'm most confident about my Charms work and I'm nervous about Potions."

Robert nodded. "You needn't worry about Arithmacy and Ancient Runes, as well as any of the other advanced subjects, until you're a third year. However, a good basis in math will help you with Astronomy, which you'll have once a week."

The boy next to Terry spoke next. "I'm Stephen Cornfoot. I'm a pureblood as well, but my parents self-taught me. I'm most confident in History and least in Transfiguration. I have theoretical knowledge of elite etiquette and I know basic etiquette well."

The girl across from him was next. "I'm Lisa Turpin. I'm halfblood." She smiled. "I really consider myself more of a three-quarters-blood though. My dad is a halfblood and my mum a pureblood. I had a tutor and my mum was a Blishwick so I know etiquette. I'm most prepared for Potions and least for Astronomy."

The Chinese girl was next. "I'm Sue Li. I'm a halfblood. My dad is a muggle and my mum a muggleborn. I was mostly raised in the muggle world and went to muggle primary school, but my parents did teach me basic wizarding etiquette. I'm most ready for History and least for Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Across from Sue was a boy with golden-blond hair. "I'm Anthony Goldstein. I'm a halfblood. Both my parents were muggleborn. I don't really know a lot about wizarding etiquette, just the very basics. I have a lot of theoretical knowledge from reading, but I didn't have a tutor and my parents were too busy to teach me much. I feel most prepared for Defense Against the Dark Arts and least prepared for Charms."

Next was an Indian girl, who Harry remembered looked a lot like a girl who was sorted into Gryffindor. "I'm Padma Patil. I'm a pureblood. I know both English and Indian wizarding etiquette. I had tutors and feel confident in my Transfiguration. I'm more uncertain about Defense."

The girl across from Hermione was next. "I'm Amanda Brocklehurst, but I go by Mandy. I'm a halfblood. My father is a German wizard and I spend most of the year in Germany, so I know German wizarding etiquette most. My mother is dead, but she was supposedly a muggle."

"I'm sorry," Robert said.

Mandy shrugged. "It's okay. I have my dad, and I never knew my mother." Despite her words, Harry recognized that look in her eyes. He'd seen it in his own before. She glanced at him and he gave her a soft, understanding smile. She returned it. "Anyway, I had a tutor and feel good about Potions. I don't feel as confident about History."

The boy across from Harry went then. "I'm Michael Corner. I'm technically a pureblood. My dad is a halfblood and my mum is a squib."

"How does that work?" Hermione asked. "How do you become a pureblood?"

"You have to have all magical grandparents," Robert told her. "Which is why Lisa considers herself three-quarters, because only one of her grandparents doesn't have magic." He looked at the girl as if to confirm. Lisa nodded.

"My mum taught me a lot of theoretical things, including basic and elite etiquette, because she was from an Ancient House before her parents disowned her for not getting her Hogwarts letter." Michael grimaced. "I'm ready for Potions most of all and not excited about Transfiguration."

"I'm Hermione Granger. I'm a muggleborn. I read through the beginning chapters of all our first year textbooks, all of the Potions textbook, and a few other texts, but otherwise I went to muggle primary school and don't know anything about wizarding etiquette." She looked cross at that. Harry understood how she felt. "I feel most prepared for Potions or Transfiguration and least for Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Harry was the last of the first years. Everyone turned to look at him, including some of the nearby older years who'd been listening in. "I'm Harry Potter," he said. "I'm a halfblood, but I was raised by my muggle aunt and uncle, so I didn't know anything about magic until I got my letter."

"Really?" Anthony gaped.

Harry nodded. "Hermione and I are neighbors, so we'd talk about our accidental magic, but we didn't really know anything. After McGonagall came to Hermione's house and took us to Diagon Alley, we read all our textbooks together and practiced some making some potions. So I feel best about Potions and I'm nervous about Charms most, I think."

"Well the Charms professor is our head of house. His name is Professor Flitwick." Robert pointed up to the high table. "He's half goblin and he might look scary, but he's a good guy. If any of you struggle in his class, he'll help you after hours. He's also a good person to go to for personal troubles. He's very protective of his eagles." Robert smiled.

"Five boys and five girls, huh," a dark-skinned male said from Robert's other side. "And only two who were raised completely as muggles. Not bad."

"No discrimination," Robert reminded his friend. "This is Jordan Gamp. Ignore anything he tells you. He likes to prank the first years." He shook his head and turned so that his back was to Jordan. "This is what we're going to do. For Terry, Stephen, Lisa, Padma, and Michael, there's going to be a test of your knowledge of basic and elite wizarding etiquette at the end of the week. If you pass, then you'll be set. If you don't, you'll join the other five in etiquette lessons. The lessons will be on Saturdays from ten to six. They will include lunch. Right before winter hols, everyone will be tested. Most pass then. If you don't, you'll be given remedial etiquette lessons after the break is over."

They all nodded. "Great," Robert said. "Now all first years are assigned an advisor. Your advisors will all be fifth years. That person will continue to be your advisor until they gradate, which will be at the end of your third year. When you become fifth years, you will be assigned a first year to advise."

"So we get fourth year off?" Mandy asked.

"Correct," Robert said. "This system has been in place in Ravenclaw for centuries and has always worked well. If you don't get on with your advisor, come talk to one of the prefects and we'll work out a switch. You should want to go to your advisor for anything you're having trouble with, whether it be academic or personal. Prefects are never assigned as advisors, since we have other duties, and if you need to you can come to any of us. However, your advisor should always be your first choice. Understand?"

They all nodded.

"Good. I'll post the list on the common room bulletin board tomorrow morning. You'll be getting your class timetables at breakfast, which is always between eight and nine every weekday. Lunch is between noon and one and dinner between six and seven. If you ever miss a mealtime, talk to your advisor and they'll be able to show you where the kitchens are. The house elves are always willing to feed us if we ask."

'House elves?' Hermione mouthed at Harry. Harry shrugged. Robert must have noticed, though, because he looked at them.

"Don't worry, you two. I know it must be hard, not knowing a lot, but everything will be explained in etiquette lessons. House elves are discussed in one of the first, because of how prevalent they are in our society."

"Okay," Hermione said. Harry could tell she was already impatient for Saturday to come. Luckily it was a Wednesday. They'd only have two days of classes before the weekend.

"Regardless, check that list in the morning. It will include the initial time and place for you to meet your advisor. Every other meeting will be between you and them. Some advisors are more hands on, others just let you come to them. It's something to discuss with your advisor."

Robert turned away then to engage in a conversation with Jordan. They all dug into their plates, instead of the nibbling they'd been doing while Robert had been talking. The food was delicious. Harry hadn't been starved in a long time because of the Grangers, but he would probably always appreciate food and right now he was really appreciating this.

Just as Harry was finishing his plate, Dumbledore stood again. He warned them about going into the Forbidden Forest. Harry wanted to snort. If it were called the _Forbidden_ Forest then by all means he would avoid it. The third floor corridor was also apparently off-limits to any who didn't want to face a most painful death. Judging by the look the older Ravenclaws sported, that was new.

"First years, follow your prefects to your house common room." Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles.

Harry looked away when Dumbledore glanced at him. He wasn't sure what to think of the seemingly kind headmaster. Well as a first year, he hopefully wouldn't have to interact with the man much so he'd have time to decide what he thought of the man.

Robert stood as soon as it seemed they were all finished. Harry and Hermione had both only had a little bit of dessert each, mindful of Hermione's parents, so they were done first, but soon enough the other first years emptied their plates. A lot of the other Ravenclaws had already left in twos and threes. Harry saw the Slytherin first years being led out the Hall by their prefect. It looked the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were still eating, though.

"Okay, everyone ready?"

They all stood and followed Robert. He explained more about the castle as they walked. "The staircases are always moving, so if they end up in a landing you don't want, just hang out on the stairs until they move back to where you want to go. There are charms to make sure the students don't fall off, though if you're not careful you might stumble a bit."

They walked up several of those moving staircases. At one point, like Robert had said, the stairs moved and took with it Lisa, Sue, and Terry. They had to wait for the staircase to move back so they could move on.

"The portraits are always gossiping," Robert continued. "And they can move to any other portrait in the castle, so don't think you can get away with insulting one of them. Someone will always report back to them. We're pretty sure the Headmaster has the portraits in his office spy on students around the castle, but we can't be sure."

"Isn't that illegal?" Hermione asked.

"No, why would it be?" Robert countered. "There are never any portraits in the bathrooms or dorm rooms, so you needn't worry about that. In fact, there aren't any portraits inside the Ravenclaw common room at all. We've got a statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, but she doesn't move."

Robert led them up a tight spiral staircase. "This is Ravenclaw tower," he said. He stopped in front of a door with a bronze eagle-shaped knocker. There was no handle.

The knocker opened its beak. "Brothers and sisters I have none, but this man's father is my father's son. Who is he?"

"Anyone?" Robert asked.

"Your son," Stephen said. The knocker clanged once against the door and it opened.

"The riddle changes every day at midnight. After you've been here several years, you'll notice a couple repeats, but they're rare. If you don't know the answer, you just have to wait around for someone who does. House policy." Robert led them inside the common room.

Harry looked around. The common room was circular, because it was a tower. There were large arched windows with blue drapes. Blue and bronze silks hung around the walls. At the far wall between two windows was a bookshelf piled high with books and a ladder to reach the top shelves. There were couches and armchairs in various colors of blue with bronze-colored pillows and throws. There were also a bunch of wooden tables with cushioned chairs. A few smaller bookshelves lined the other walls. There was an open doorway that showed a staircase leading upward. A white marble statue, which Harry assumed was of Rowena Ravenclaw, stood in front of it. The carpet was a midnight blue and the ceiling was charmed to look like the night sky.

"Welcome to the Ravenclaw common room," Robert said. "This will be your home for the next seven years. Up those stairs, you'll find seven floors. The first years are always on the first landing. There will be one door that says girls and the other says boys. The bathroom leads off from your dorm room. Both dorms are spelled so that only the people assigned into it can enter, else you'll get hexed. If you want to meet up with someone of the opposite gender, or from another year, you'll have to do it down here in the common room or elsewhere in the castle."

Robert pointed to where a large bulletin board stood on one wall. "You'll want to check that often. Most announcements are posted there—such as if any classes are cancelled for whatever reason or if anyone is hosting a study session." He clapped his hands. "I'll leave you to settle in now. There's an automatic alarm in each dorm room for seven-thirty, and another one at eight. If you sleep through the eight o'clock one, you're out of luck. There are no alarm for the weekends, but try not to miss your ten o'clock etiquette lessons."

They all thanked Robert. He waved them away and they trudged up the stairs to check out their rooms.

Like Robert had said, there were two doors in the first landing. Harry waved goodbye to Hermione as he headed to the one that was marked _Boys_. Terry opened the door and they all walked in.

The far wall was curved, just like the rest of the tower. There was an open door to the left that looked like it led to the bathroom. Harry peeked in and saw there were five cubbyholes for their bathroom things and hooks that held clean towels for all of them. There looked to be three bathroom stalls and two showers. It seemed the wizarding world didn't have open urinals. Harry shrugged and looked back at the dorm room. The girls' room shared that other wall with them and their bathroom was probably on the opposite side. The two bathroom walls had to be separated by the staircase. It was a smart setup, but then… it was Ravenclaw.

"Stephen, Anthony, Michael, and Harry," Terry said, as if to remind himself. "Guess we'll be together for the next seven years."

Harry smiled at him. As much as Hermione was his best friend, he was excited to make male friends. Dudley had always scared them all away from him.

"Most muggleborns are sorted into Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, or so I've heard," Stephen said. "Even though you're a halfblood, you're still muggle-raised. So if you have any questions, Harry, just ask. We eagles have to stick together, right?"

"Thanks," Harry said. "I probably will have a lot of questions, but I'm still taking everything in."

He looked around. The five beds were all four posters with blue drapes. There were two large windows on the far wall that separated three of the beds. The other two sat against the sidewalls, one just below the door to the bathroom and the other opposite it against the wall they shared with the girls. Harry noticed his trunk was at the end of the bed in the middle of the far wall. He headed over to it and sat down. The others seemed spurred by his action and found their own trunks. Terry was to Harry's right and Stephen to Harry's left. Michael had the bed across from Terry's, and therefore next to the door to the bathroom. Anthony was across from Stephen.

"We should probably go to bed," Michael said. "So we're ready for tomorrow."

They all seemed to agree. Harry changed into his pajamas. He was more pleased than ever that he and Hermione had made sure to buy clothes that would blend in with the wizarding world. His sleep clothes were just plain black, but they didn't look too different from the others. Harry was the only muggle-raised person in the room. At least Hermione had Sue, who'd been mostly raised muggle too, but she probably knew more about wizarding fashion than they did. Harry didn't want to stand out amongst his housemates and he knew Hermione felt the same way.

Harry had a hard time falling asleep that night. He was just really excited, but also nervous. He was at Hogwarts and tomorrow would be his first day to learn magic.

There was no use staring at the drapes of his bed, though. He needed to get some sleep if he wanted to be prepared for what September 2nd brought. Harry closed his eyes and forced himself to think of nothing at all until sleep dragged him down into the peaceful darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes:** One of my all time favorite FF authors (Keira Marcos) just posted the first chapter to a Harry/Hermione story (called Harry Potter & the Soulmate Bond—it's not on this site, so just google it if you're interested) and OMFG it's so good so far. Anyway it inspired me to write this chapter of Granger Danger, because hooray Harry and Hermione are both awesome, so here you go.

* * *

Harry woke to a chiming sound. It must have been the alarm Robert had told them about. He noticed the other boys waking to. Yawning, Harry put on his glasses and grabbed a set of trousers, a button-up shirt, and a set of school robes. He headed to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth and hair.

Harry returned more awake and definitely excited. Anthony and Stephen were already dressed, while Michael and Terry had both elected to take morning showers.

"What's this?" Harry asked, pointing to the basket next to his bed.

"For your dirty laundry," Stephen said. "So the house elves can wash it. I don't know if they'll leave it folded on our bed or put it back in our trunks for us."

"Probably on the bed," Anthony said. "I bet some students have wards and things on their trunks."

"What are wards?" Harry asked.

"You know, like protections," Anthony told him. "To keep people from getting to your stuff."

That sounded useful. Harry made a note to look up wards later. He wondered if his parents had put wards around their house before Voldemort attacked them.

"Should we wait for Terry and Michael?" Stephen asked.

Anthony shrugged. "We can wait for them in the common room, right?"

Harry nodded. The three of them headed downstairs. Hermione and Sue were already standing in front of the bulletin board.

"Good morning, Hermione," Harry greeted cheerfully, coming to stand next to his friend. "And Sue."

Sue smiled at him. Harry turned his eyes to the bulletin board. The advisor sheet was up.

"Jordan Gamp," Harry read next to his name. "Isn't that Robert's friend?"

"I think so," Hermione said. "Didn't Robert say not to listen to him? How is he supposed to advise you if you're not supposed to pay attention to what he tells you?"

There was a deep laugh behind them. They turned to see Jordan standing there with the Head Girl next to him.

"Don't worry, Harry," the Head Girl said. "If my little brother gives you trouble, just come talk to me. He's already been warned against pranking the Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry flushed at the name, but didn't comment on it. "You're siblings?"

"I'm Jamie Gamp," the Head Girl introduced herself. "It's nice to see bright new eagles. I hope you have a great first year and if you need help, you can always come to me or Professor Flitwick."

"Thanks, Jamie," Anthony said.

Jamie smiled at him and waved goodbye as she wandered off to the other side of the common room. Jordan stayed. He held out his hand. "I am excited to advise you, Harry," he said. "I'm a halfblood too. Jamie and my father is a pureblood. The Gamps are an Ancient House, like the Potters. Our mum is a muggleborn though and we've taken a couple vacations in the muggle world just to see what it was like, so I shouldn't be too lost if you start talking about the telly or something."

"Cool," Harry said, taking Jordan's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Do you know who Danica Dollop is?" Hermione asked. "She's my advisor."

"Oh, Danica." Jordan looked around the common room. "She's probably already at breakfast. She's an early riser. She likes to dye her hair different colors. It's probably blue, red, yellow, and green right now, in honor of the beginning of the year. She's really smart though. Always has the top marks of our year."

"Do Ravenclaws often get the top marks for the year?" Sue asked.

"Usually, yeah," Jordan said. "Not always, though. A lot of us tend to fall behind on the practical work. That's my biggest advice for you guys: don't forget to actually practice the spells."

"Who's on top for all the years, then?" Anthony asked.

Jordan scratched his chin. "Seventh year, my sister's on top. The Head Boy is a Gryffindor. He's a good guy, but I think he's number five in the ranking. Sixth year is our very own Robert. Fifth year, I just said is Danica. The current fourth year class tends to go back and forth between a Slytherin and one of our eagles. The third year class is actually led by a Hufflepuff, if you can believe it." Jordan shook his head. "Cedric Diggory, that crazy 'Puff seeker," he muttered under his breath. "And the second years… I think was a Slytherin. Though to be honest, we don't really start paying attention to ranks until fourth or fifth year, because that's when you start learning OWLS material."

Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione. He noticed the determination in her eyes. He grinned. She probably wanted to be the top of their year. He wished her luck. He planned on doing his best, but he didn't want to be the very top. Being the very top would attract attention and he was trying to avoid that as much as possible.

The rest of the first years came down then and joined their group. Jordan took a step back from the ten-person party. "You guys remember how to get to the Great Hall?"

"I think so," Sue said.

Jordan grinned. "Awesome. I'll see you later, Harry!"

"Bye!" Harry said as Jordan left to go join Robert and a few other people headed to breakfast.

The other first years made a note on their advisors and the times and places they were supposed to meet them. Harry was to meet Jordan at nine that night in the library. Hermione was apparently meeting Danica also in the library at nine, so they'd be able to walk together.

"Should we grab our school bags?" Mandy asked.

"We don't know what classes we have today," Terry pointed out. "We'll have to come back and grab the correct textbooks anyway."

They all headed in one group down to breakfast. Harry noticed that Padma and Lisa seemed to be content talking in their own little group. Mandy joined them after a moment. Terry, Stephen, and Michael stuck together as well. Which left Harry, Hermione, Anthony, and Sue.

Breakfast was eggs and sausage, along with hot butter rolls like the night before. It wasn't as extravagant a meal as the Feast had been, but then that was probably apparent in the fact that the night before was the Welcoming Feast.

Flitwick came around at eight thirty with timetables. He handed several stacks to some of the prefects to pass out among the older students, but he passed out the first year timetables himself.

"Ms. Granger," he said in a squeaky voice. He smiled as she held up her hand. "Welcome to Ravenclaw."

He repeated this with all the students, ending with Harry. He smiled even wider. "Very happy to have you amongst the eagles, Mr. Potter. You know, your mother was a Charms prodigy. She was one of my favorite students, even."

"Really?" Harry asked as he took his timetable. "I heard she was really good at Potions too."

Flitwick nodded. "She was, yes, but I attribute that to how much time she spend with Severus."

"Severus?" Terry asked. "As in Severus Snape, our Potions professor?"

They all looked over at the Slytherin table, where a hook-nosed man with greasy black hair was passing out timetables to the students.

"Yes, that Severus," Flitwick said. "He looks mean, but don't worry. He likes us eagles well enough. Maybe not as much as his snakes, but certainly more than the lions." Flitwick laughed a bit to himself.

"So Professor Snape and my mum were friends?" Harry asked.

"They sure were. Lily told me they grew up in the same neighborhood, even." Flitwick nodded enthusiastically. "I'm sure you'll do well in Professor Snape's class, and I expect you to do well in mine as well." He glanced around. It was almost comical, since he was basically as tall as they all were seated—and they were only first years! "I expect you all to do well, but if you're struggling, don't be afraid to come to me. My door is always open for my eagles."

"Thanks, Professor," they all said.

Flitwick left. He joined up with Snape as the man finished passing out his own timetables and together they walked back up to the high table. Harry noticed Snape nod along to something Flitwick was saying and then the Potions professor glanced over at the Ravenclaw table. Their eyes met.

Harry smiled a bit shyly, ducking his head a little. Snape stared at him for what seemed like a very long moment, before he turned away.

Harry turned back to the other first years. They were studying the timetable. "Looks like we have double Potions today," Lisa said. "With the Hufflepuffs."

"And Charms with the Slytherins and History with the Gyffindors tomorrow," Michael said.

Harry studied the timetable. They'd have their first Transfiguration class with the Hufflepuffs on Monday. Herbology was Wednesdays also with the Hufflepuffs, as was Astronomy on Tuesday nights at midnight.

"A lot of our classes are with the Hufflepuffs," Sue noted aloud.

"I heard that Headmaster Dumbledore likes to put the Gryffindors and Slytherins together because they're bitter rivals or something," Stephen said. "Which leaves us the 'Puffs."

Harry saw Padma pull out a fancy clock thing from her pocket. "It's almost nine. We should head back to the Tower to get our Potions books, cauldrons and kits, and everything else."

They all quickly finished their breakfasts and did as Padma suggested. Lisa had a map that her older brother, already graduated from Hogwarts, had drawn her. It pointed out the routes to the different classrooms only, but that was all they needed. They followed her as she led them down to the dungeons and to the Potions classroom.

It looked like they were the first to arrive. The desks were arranged as two-person seats so Harry sat next to Hermione in the front row. He was excited and he could tell Hermione was as well. This was the true test on whether they'd done well in all their Potions preparations.

Sue and Anthony sat behind them, Stephen and Terry to their left, Michael and Mandy behind them, and Padma and Lisa behind those two.

The Hufflepuffs filed in soon after and took their own seats. Harry saw Susan sit down with the girl he remembered to be Hannah Abbott, the earliest person in the alphabet in their year. He gave Susan a wave and Susan waved back cheerily.

Harry turned back toward the front just as Snape came sweeping into the room. He walked up to the chalkboard and turned around to face them all. His face was devoid of emotion, though his eyes seemed to spark with something as he met Harry's gaze briefly.

"Wands away," Snape said. "You will not need them in this class unless you miraculously get an O in your OWLS and are able to join my NEWTS class."

O? Oh, right, the grading system was different in the wizarding world. An O was an A, basically, and an E was a B, an A was actually a C. Then a P, D, and T were all failing grades. Harry would probably take a while to get that all straight, but he was sure he'd have it figured out by the time he got to his OWLS.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke softly, but the class was silent enough to hear his every word. "I do not expect you to become Potions masters. If even only one of you learns to appreciate the beautiful art of Potions making as much, I will have done my job. For the rest of you, I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—but to learn you must pay attention. Potions is as dangerous as it is enchanting."

Harry barely dared to breath. Beside him, Hermione was quivering in her seat.

Snape nodded sharply. He rolled out a piece of parchment and began calling names in a roll call.

When he came to Harry's name, he paused at Harry's last name, before saying, "Harry."

"Here, Professor," Harry said softly.

Snape stared at him and then moved on. He finished the roll call and banished the parchment. With a wave of his wand, a Potions formula appeared on the chalkboard. "Ingredients are in the cupboard. Once you have finished your potion, you must bottle it up and bring it to my desk. Begin."

"I'll get the ingredients," Hermione said.

"I'll set up the cauldron," Harry agreed. He put his cauldron up on top of the burner on the table and set it aflame. It looks like he and Hermione would be able to work on the potion together, which made things really easy. The potion was a cure for boils and they were both practiced at that.

Hermione came back with the jars of ingredients. Harry set up chopping the bat tails while Hermione added the thyme.

They got the first couple ingredients in the cauldron. It turned a lovely blue color. Harry grabbed the newt eyes and began grounding them as he and Hermione had figured was best while Hermione stirred the potion three times clockwise.

Snape paced around the room and stopped their table just as Harry put the ground newt eyes in. He watched with them as the potion turned the correct shade of violet.

"Ms. Granger," Snape said. "Are you a muggleborn?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said. "Harry and I grew up in the same neighborhood. We didn't know about Hogwarts until we got our letters, but after we did we practiced Potions together because Professor McGonagall said it was okay."

Harry looked up at Snape. Snape frowned at the two of them. It didn't seem nasty, only contemplative. "What potions did you practice?"

"Cure for boils, forgetfulness, and the dancing hair potions, sir," Harry said.

Snape nodded. "Tell me, Mr. Potter, what would you get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood."

Harry scrunched up his nose in thought. "A sleeping potion, I think." He thought harder. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't remember what it is called."

"Draught of Living Death," Hermione said, reminding him.

"Oh, right."

Snape looked between the two of them. "Ms. Granger, what is the difference between monkswood and wolfsbane?"

"They're the same plant, Professor," Hermione said.

"Aconite too," Harry added.

"Correct," Snape said. "What is the purpose of a bezoar, Mr. Potter, and where would you find it, Ms. Granger?"

"It's a stone that cures a lot of poisons," Harry said.

"And you can find it in the stomach of a goat," Hermione said after him.

"Correct. Twenty points each to Ravenclaw." Snape looked at their potion. "Bottle that up and begin working on the forgetfulness potion. You may refer to your text if you do not have the formula memorized."

With that, Snape swept off to go look at Terry and Stephen's potion. Harry looked at Hermione. She seemed as stunned as he was.

"Right," Harry said. "I guess we should…."

"Right," Hermione repeated. They bottled up the cure for boils. Harry set his cauldron aside to be cleaned later and Hermione got hers set up while Harry went to get the ingredients he knew were in the forgetfulness potion.

Later, at lunch, the other Ravenclaws congratulated them on being the first of the year to get twenty points for their house. "And in Snape's class too," Robert said once he'd heard the news. "He's not unfair to us eagles, but he's not easy on us. If he gave you both twenty points, then he was really impressed."

"We should read ahead more," Hermione whispered to Harry. "So we're ready if he tests us again."

Harry nodded. He didn't want to disappoint the man that had been friends with his mum, after all.

H.H.

That night, Harry and Hermione headed out early to find their way to the library. They managed to make it there right at nine. Jordan and the girl that had to be Danica were seated together at one of the back tables. Like Jordan had said, Danica's hair was done in multi-colored stripes that actually moved across her head in a sort of wave pattern.

They looked up as Harry and Hermione approached. "Oh look, it's the kids," Jordan said.

Danica snorted. She smiled at Hermione. "Hi, I'm Danica. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Hermione said.

Danica stood. "Come on then, let's find somewhere away from these boys."

Jordan stuck his tongue out, which Danica ignored. Hermione followed her through the library stacks. Harry watched them until they were out of sight and then turned to Jordan.

He was grinning. "So, Harry, how do you feel about pranks?"

"Um… I don't want to get in trouble," Harry said.

"Oh don't worry. A good prankster never gets caught." He patted the chair next to him and Harry gamely sat on it. "See there are these Gryffindors… they're good and all but they need finesse and I'll tell you half of my pranks get pinned on them."

"We knew it!"

Harry turned around to see two red-haired boys a few years older than him come out from behind the nearby stacks. They were identical with freckles all across their faces and arms.

"Oops," Jordan said, wincing. "Hello there, Fred, George."

The twins sat across from Harry and Jordan. "We've been trying to find you for ages," one of them said.

"You hid your tracks well," the other said. "But we suspected after the Squid Incident that it might be you."

Harry could here the capitals. He looked at Jordan, who was smiling behind his hand. He looked back at the twins. "Which one is which?" he asked.

"I'm Fred," the one of the left said.

"And I'm George."

Harry frowned. "I think you're lying to confuse me."

By the widening of their eyes, they hadn't expected to be called out on that. Harry nodded, satisfied. "Okay, nice to meet you, Fred," the one on the right, "and George."

Fred and George exchanged a glance. "Say Gamp," George said. "If you're going to be training little Potter here as a prankster, we want in."

"We know when to bow to a superior prankster," Fred added.

Jordan tapped his chin. "I'm not against it. As long as you show me the map you have."

"What map?" Fred asked innocently.

"I know you have it. The Marauders' Map. My mom was friendly with the Marauders in school. She was a Gryffindor, like them." He looked at Harry. "My dad was a Ravenclaw though."

"You know who they are?" George asked, obviously excited. "We only know their nicknames."

Jordan nodded. "I'll tell you, but you have to show us the map."

Fred pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket and laid it on the table. Harry peered at it curiously, but it was just a blank paper.

George tapped the parchment with his wand. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Lines of ink appeared on the parchment, spreading and stretching until a full map of Hogwarts was visible. Harry gasped as he noticed the named footprints. Jordan seemed equally as enchanted. "Wow," he said. "My mom said it was a sight to behold, but I didn't realize it was so…."

"We know," Fred said. He pointed to the names at the top. "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs."

"So from what I know, Prongs was Harry's dad."

"Really? My dad made this?"

Jordan nodded as Fred and George looked at Harry in a new light.

"No wonder you sought to train him as a prankster," George said. "A second generation marauder."

Harry blushed, but truthfully he would rather people pay attention to him as the son of a prankster than as the boy-who-lived.

"The other three…." Jordan looked hesitant. "Harry, how much do you know about how your parents, um… you know."

Harry frowned. "I know Voldemort," all three other boys flinched at the name, "came and killed my dad first and then my mom. And then he tried to kill me." Harry touched his scar. "That's all."

"Well, your parents were under fidelius," Jordan said. "It's a powerful charm that prevents anyone from giving away their location. There's a secret keeper who is the only one that can say where they are."

Harry had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He thought he knew where this was going.

Jordan placed a hand on his shoulder. "The adults probably don't want to tell you this, but I think you deserve the right to know. Your eleven, not five or something, and you'd be able to look this up if you really wanted to anyway."

"My parents' secret keeper betrayed them," Harry murmured.

Jordan nodded.

"And he was one of the marauders?" Fred whispered.

Jordan nodded again. "Padfoot."

Fred and George were both as pale as Harry felt he must be.

"His real name was Sirius Black. He's your godfather."

"What does that mean?"

"He would have been the one to take you and raise you. That's the duty of a godfather or godmother if the parents can't," Jordan explained. "But he's in Azkaban. The wizarding prison."

George shuddered. "He killed twelve muggles."

"And Peter Pettigrew," Jordan said. "Who was Wormtail."

Harry swallowed dryly. "And Moony?"

"Remus Lupin," Jordan said. "I don't know where he is. My mom said he just disappeared after the whole thing happened. Probably still can't get over the fact that one of his best friends betrayed another friend and killed the third. It's… it's not a happy story."

"No," Harry agreed. He looked at the map and then took a deep breath. "But they probably weren't thinking about that when they were at Hogwarts, right? They were just friends and they pranked people. That's… I think my dad wouldn't have wanted me to dwell on that, right?"

"Probably not," Jordan agreed. "You're not James Potter, but you are his son. That's why I thought I'd teach you some pranking skills. So that maybe you might feel a little closer to him."

"Yeah," Harry murmured. "Yeah," he said again, louder. "I want to learn." He looked from Jordan to Fred to George. "We can be the next generation of marauders. And we can do it better."

Fred and George nodded. They still looked somber, but there was a bit of light back in their eyes. "We approve," they said together.

Jordan squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Let's get started then."

H.H.

They were led to their first etiquette lesson by Robert. It was apparently to take place in an empty classroom.

Harry and Hermione stayed close together. He'd told her about the marauders situation yesterday and though she'd been disapproving of the idea of pranking, she'd been definitely sympathetic about Harry's parents' betrayal.

Harry wasn't so sure about pranking in it of itself. He'd always gotten in trouble at primary school because the teachers thought him a _prankster_ and a _troublemaker_ so a lot of things tended to be pinned on him. But he was willing to go along with Jordan, Fred, and George at least for a little while. The map the twins had was made, or partially made, by his dad. He didn't have anything left from his parents except for the gold in his trust vault. That single map was worth all of it.

He wondered if he'd be able to write Remus Lupin as ask about his parents. Maybe Hedwig would be able to find him, wherever he was? He'd have to wait until after the owl got back from the Grangers. He and Hermione had both written letters and sent them with her that morning.

"Okay, first years," Robert said. "Jamie tested the other five earlier this morning and they all passed the basics. Stephen and Michael are going to join you guys for the later lessons this semester as a refresher on the more elite stuff, but as of right now it's just the five of you."

"I'm Penelope Clearwater, but call me Penny," said the female prefect that had walked with them. "All the prefects are going to share the duty of teaching these lessons. For this first one, me and Robert will be working together."

"Now, Mandy, Anthony, and Sue a lot of these earlier lessons are going to be refreshers for you. Bear with it. You never know, you might learn something new anyway," Robert said. "Our first lesson today we're going to talk about the basic state of wizarding governance, house elves, and sports."

"We'll start with explaining the Ministry and how it's set up," Penny said.

Harry settled in to listen. Hermione was taking notes. He thought about joining her, but he was a good listener and if he needed to he knew she'd let him look over her notes.

Two hours later, they'd gone through the difference between the minister and his undersecretaries as well as the different departments and their heads. They'd also brushed on pureblood influence and the wizengamot, but Penny said they'd go into that in more detail in later lessons.

At the very least, Harry had a better idea how the laws were made in the wizarding world, which he supposed was good to know.

Then it was lunchtime.

"We asked the house elves to provide lunches for all of us for these Saturdays so we don't have to go down to the Great Hall," Robert said. "And this allows us to move our discussion over to them."

"Hooky!" Penny called.

There was a pop and a small creature appeared next to Robert and Penny. He was only about two and half feet tall with bat-like ears and wide eyes. His skin was wrinkled and he wore what looked like a tea towel bearing the Hogwarts crest.

"Hello young masters and mistresses," Hooky said, bowing. "Yous food is almost ready."

"Thanks, Hooky," Robert said. "We just wanted to show you off. You can just pop the food onto the desks whenever it's ready."

Hooky grinned, showing crooked teeth. "Hooky is always pleased to model for young master Robert." He disappeared with a pop as Penny smothered a laugh.

Penny got a hold of herself and straightened. "House elves are bonded servants. They cook and clean around the castle. Filch, you've all heard of him by now, right?"

They nodded.

"Right well, Filch deals mostly with students after hours and making sure the castle is in order. He's a squib so he can't do magic to clean. Usually when he finds a spot out of order, he'll call a house elf to take care of it."

Hermione raised her hand. Robert nodded to her. "Are house elves able to get other jobs?" she asked. "Other than cooking and cleaning."

"Not usually," Robert said. "In the past, there have been house elves who have fought in wars for their masters, but they usually stick to tending buildings and grounds."

Harry saw Hermione frown deeply.

Penny cleared her throat. "Hermione, my best friend is muggleborn. She had trouble with house elves first too. Thought they were basically slaves. I can't say it's not similar, because there are some homes where house elves are abused, but it's not so black and white."

"House elves can't be freed," Robert said. "Or rather, they can, but they'd die. They exist off the magic of their masters. If they were cut off from that magic, they'd eventually starve to death."

"And there's no way to feed them the magic without making them work?"

"No. That's how they access it. By doing services for their master or mistress, they are able to draw more of the magic. The harder working house elves tend to look the healthiest."

"Hooky, who you just saw, is the head house elf for Hogwarts. He's very old. You saw how wrinkled he looked, didn't you? The older a house elf gets, the harder time they have taking in magic."

"How old is he?" Harry asked.

"Over five hundred years," Penny said. "He's training up the next head."

"I don't really want to talk about that," Robert said, sadness in his eyes. "The house elves at the school mostly do their own thing, but in private homes they work more specifically on their master or mistress' instructions. Anyway, they're nice and I for one do not tolerate abuse toward them." He gave them all a hard stare.

Harry nodded easily. He couldn't imagine abusing another living thing. Beside him, Hermione nodded fervently. He wondered if she'd be looking up more about house elves in the future.

The food took that moment to arrive. Harry smiled at the sandwich on his plate. It was the same he'd had for lunch yesterday. He wondered if the house elves had remembered.

"As soon as we finish eating, we'll move onto sports," Penny said. "Quidditch is the most popular, of course, and there's a culture around it that's important to know."

"But that's after we eat," Robert said, digging into his sandwich.

Harry followed his example with enthusiasm.

H.H.

By the end of his first full week at Hogwarts, a good ten days after he'd first arrived at the castle, Harry knew he was settling in.

He continued to work with Hermione in Snape's class as the man continued to test the both of them. McGonagall was a good teacher and though Hermione was better than him at Transfiguration, he wasn't far behind her. Charms, too, was good if only because Flitwick made sure they were all keeping up.

Herbology and Astronomy were both interesting, though not Harry's favorite subjects. History of Magic had seemed fun, but the teacher was a ghost and his voice was so dull that Harry had a hard time staying awake.

Defense Against the Dark Arts turned out to be one of Harry's least favorite subjects, because every time he was in the presence of the teacher, Professor Quirrell, he developed a nasty headache and had a hard time concentrating. He and Hermione were desperately trying to find a remedy for it before the whole year went by without him learning anything from the stuttering teacher.

Still, he found a home in Hogwarts and with the Ravenclaws. He looked forward to most of his classes, save for the previously mentioned nightmare, and his friendship with Hermione and with Sue and Anthony only continued to grow.

He looked forward to the rest of the year.


End file.
